


Focus On Me

by Shay_Moonsilk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has an Anxiety Disorder (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has an Oral Fixation (Good Omens), Blindfolds, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Dom Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Other, Punishment, Spanking, Sub Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sybian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29208846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk
Summary: “If you continue to talk back to me,” She said, “I will make it harder for you.”His throat went dry at the mention of harder, but Aziraphale could not let himself give in. He couldn’t.“I am an angel,” Aziraphale protested, though it sounded like more of a whine, “And an angel of the heavenly host does not subject himself to a punishment from a demon!”It was the wrong thing to say. In a flash, he found himself pressed against the wall, his wrists pinned to either side of his head. Nanny's fists were holding his hands to the wall, and her grip was ironclad.--When an angel is too stressed to pay attention to his lover, it's time for Nanny Ashtoreth to take him in hand until his focus is on her.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Nanny Ashtoreth/Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 120





	Focus On Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the Nanny zine! I hope you enjoy!

_ You are doomed for failure.  _

How unfortunate that one archangel’s careless words could have such a dreaded impact on the rest of the day. The utter dismissal of his superiors, combined with their lack of concern or interest in his own wellbeing, had put Aziraphale in a bit of a slump for the rest of the day. Somehow, his feet carried him back to the bus, and then his second bus, in order for him to get back to the Dowling residence by nightfall. Today had been Brother Francis’ day off, so he was under no compunction to report to the main house.  
  
  


The Gardner’s living area was in the grounds of the house, safely tucked away from the rest of the staff and security. It would make a good refuge that evening, so he could have a snack and sulk in peace. Aziraphale entered his temporary home and busied himself with preparing a cup of tea. When it was ready, he took it, a saucer, and some biscuits to his favorite armchair. Before he could bite into one of the morsels, a sharp  _ knock knock knock  _ against his door had him startle in his seat.  
  
  


Oh good lord. Aziraphale had forgotten the deal he and Crowley made. After any check-in with their offices, they were expected to meet that day and debrief, so they could stay on the same page. Crowley knew he had a meeting today and was following up on their arrangement. Aziraphale was  _ not  _ up for entertaining today, but he was an angel of his word. Not to mention that if he did not let Crowley in, his demon would be rather  _ cross.  _ As the thought came to his head, Aziraphale shifted, remembering what happened the last time he had let the plants get spots and the demon got  _ cross  _ then. His backside smarted a good three days after!  
  
  


“Coming!” Aziraphale called, hurrying over to let his companion in. He opened the door to find not his adversary-turned-paramour, but rather,  _ oh- _ his effort  _ throbbed _ with want _ -  
  
  
_

“H-hello Nanny,” He said, stepping back to let her in.  
  
  


Crowley believed, Aziraphale soon discovered, in method acting. The ‘Nanny’ persona became Crowley’s twenty-four hour a day look for every day he was at the residence. When he left the house, he was the familiar man-shaped demon that Aziraphale was used to seeing, but when at the Ambassador’s home, he was  _ Nanny _ .  
  
  


It wasn’t an issue when Aziraphale was working as Brother Francis. When he was the Gardner, Aziraphale was only focused on showing the antichrist the light of angels. The nanny held no interest or focus to him. But when he was not at work, and he was Aziraphale,  _ well _ . Nanny had a very dominant energy, one that made him want to immediately get on his knees. She made him want to be both very good, or very bad, because it would mean having her entire focus on him and him alone. In a very unangelic way, Aziraphale wanted all of Nanny on him and him alone. And she knew it.   
  
  


Nanny made her way into his cottage, and Aziraphale’s heart raced. He should have tidied up. Not that it was  _ messy _ , but the way her eyes lingered on the occasional shelf, the way they narrowed as she took in his room – he wished that he had done a more thorough cleaning. Aziraphale felt quite vulnerable under her gaze.  
  
  


“I would like some tea,” She said, deciding not to comment on the state of his home.  
  
  


Aziraphale started, shocked that he hadn’t played his part as a host. He knew better!   
  
  


“Of course,” He made quick work of preparing her Earl Grey, adding the amount of honey and lemon that he knew she preferred.   
  
  


When it was ready, he brought it to her, and she raised the cup to her lips. With bated breath, Aziraphale watched as she took a few sips. When she nodded in approval, he felt a rush of relief that was nearly dizzying.  
  
  


“Take a seat love,” She commanded, and Aziraphale returned to his seat, but did not reach for his own tea. Nanny began to speak, no doubt filling him in on what he had missed, but Aziraphale could not bring himself to focus. Her mouth was moving, and he was transfixed by watching her lips, but none of her words reached his ear. All that Aziraphale could focus on was the impending dread of Armageddon, the fact that his own people thought there was nothing he could do. It could be one of the last times he could sit with Nanny and have tea. The last time he would hold a teacup, see a biscuit, or serve his demon.  
  
  


“Aziraphale?”

  
  
Crowley wouldn’t be there to hold him close, to tuck his head under a pointy chin. The demon wouldn’t kiss his temple the way Aziraphale liked but could never bring himself to ask for. If the world ended, Crowley would never offer him a second dessert, or take him in his arms, or  _ have _ him in the bookshop, the Bentley, the Mayfair flat, or even on their bench in the park (following a stargazing excursion that quickly turned to heavy petting).  
  
  


“Aziraphale?”  
  
  


There would only be the singing of harmonies, movie marathons for only one particular movie, and morning jogs with no brunch with champagne afterward. Every angel was supposed to be looking forward to that, and yet the thought filled him with an untenable dread.  
  
  


“ _ Aziraphale _ !”   
  
  


He startled, the sharpness of Nanny’s voice cutting through his melancholy. With dread, Aziraphale realized that she had been saying his name for some time.  
  
  


Oh no, he hadn’t been listening, had he? Aziraphale swallowed, trying desperately to think of a noncommittal response to make it seem like he was perfectly active in the conversation. But judging by the look on Nanny’s face, it didn’t seem like she would believe him.  
  
  


“Yes, Nanny?” He said, trying to hide his own nervous shifting.  
  
  


“Do you know what I just said?”  
  
  


Logically, Aziraphale knew that he should not lie. Nanny always knew when he fibbed, it was a special skill only she possessed. And Aziraphale was a very bad liar.  
  
  


“Of course I do!” He insisted anyway, because he had had a very long, worrying day, and was not thinking clearly. “You… you said…”  
  
  


She said nothing to finish his sentence, and it awkwardly trailed off. When Aziraphale said nothing, just continued to not-pout in his seat, Nanny gave a tut-ing noise and stood.  
  
  


“Alright,” She gave a matter-of-fact sigh, and rose from her chair. With her hands going to her hips, she narrowed her eyes at Aziraphale. “If that’s how you’re going to behave, I believe a punishment is in order.”  
  
  


Aziraphale made a scandalized noise, but his pussy throbbed at the mention of it. “I beg your pardon?” He demanded. She did not look pleased at his resistance.  
  
  


“If you continue to talk back to me,” She said, “I will make it harder for you.”  
  
  


His throat went dry at the mention of  _ harder _ , but Aziraphale could not let himself give in. He couldn’t.   
  
  


“I am an angel,” Aziraphale protested, though it sounded like more of a whine, “And an angel of the heavenly host does not subject himself to a punishment from a demon!”  
  
  


It was the wrong thing to say. In a flash, he found himself pressed against the wall, his wrists pinned to either side of his head. Nanny's fists were holding his hands to the wall, and her grip was ironclad. Her knee went between his legs, where she could no doubt feel his pulsing need against her thigh. With the shift of his hips, she could undoubtedly  _ smell _ his arousal.  
  
  


“Thisss angel,” She hissed, “Does what his Nanny says, especially when he is being a bad boy.”  
  
  


Aziraphale could feel himself tremor and tried to tell himself that it had nothing to do with being called bad. But it was a lie.  
  
  


“I think my little angel has had a hard day,” Nanny decided, “And needs to be taken in hand.”  
  
  


She released his wrists and stepped back. Not prepared for such a move, Aziraphale slumped and staggered, off-balance.  
  
  


“Strip,” Nanny commanded, “Take off your shirt, vest, trousers, pants, and shoes.” She moved to stand at the foot of the bed.  
  
  


Heart racing, and hands slightly trembling, Aziraphale complied, knowing that if he resisted the punishment would only be more severe. He still took the time to fold his clothes as he placed each item on the chair, except the shoes, which he placed near the door. It didn’t escape his notice that she gave a nod of approval at the folding. For her part, she had snapped, and her dress was in his hands for him to fold. She was in her own black lingerie. Aziraphale swallowed and focused on folding her garment. Clad only in his socks and sock-garters, he walked to face her. Nervously, he focused his gaze on the patterned carpet at their feet.  
  
  


Hands cupped his chin, and she slowly tilted his face so he was looking into her golden eyes. “Get on the bed,” She ordered, “Hands and knees angel.”  
  
  


Aziraphale nodded, moving to the position, his arms trembling ever so slightly. He expected to feel the sensation of her hand against his posterior right away, but that did not happen. Cool air caressed his skin, but her hands did not. From behind him, he could hear her footsteps and then jumped when her hand settled on his shoulder.  
  
  


“Shhh,” She soothed, gently stroking his shoulder, and then his hair, “We’ve barely begun.”  
  
  


There was a black cloth in front of his face, and he swallowed as he saw the blindfold. It was a dark material, and as it covered his eyes, he could no longer make out any source of light or shape. She tied it, securing it with a double knot that left no room for him to shake loose, yet did not pull too tightly.  
  
  


“I want your focus on me, and me alone,” Nanny ordered. “Your mind is too busy tonight, with all those nasty thoughts of your bosses. But now Nanny is here. Remember to count.” Her fingers curled behind the knot, pulling his head back, urging him to bow his back so his arse was pushed out. It was humiliating and Aziraphale could feel himself getting wetter for it.   
  
  


_ Smack  
  
  
  
_ A high-pitched yelp escaped Aziraphale’s throat. There had been no build-up, no rubbing, no warning. Even the sensation seemed delayed from the sound. But it was a sharp heat, one with a promise for more.  
  
  


“What was that, love?” He could hear the smirk in her voice. She had wanted to catch him off guard. She had wanted his attention.  
  
  


Aziraphale shook his head frantically, but his movement was limited by the vice grip Nanny had on his blindfold. She tutted at him.  
  
  


“Now now,” her voice, Aziraphale reflected, was leaving no room for interpretation. He had really displeased her earlier, and the only thing that would satisfy her was a thrashing. “I believe you were given a  _ job _ , young man.”  
  
  


_ Smack  
  
  
_

“Two!” Aziraphale wailed. Goodness gracious, she was not holding back! His arse was warmer now, and he knew his cheek would be pink – it bruised so easily!  
  
  


“There’s my good boy,” She cooed, and Aziraphale trembled. “Counting so well for me.”  
  
  


”I’m not a boy,” he protested, and he could hear the disapproving tsk. His stomach rolled, torn between the lightheaded sensation of her praise, the warmth emanating from his posterior, and the knowledge that he wasn’t supposed to want nor need her praise. He was an angel of the host!  
  
  


But Nanny was having none of his inner turmoil. “You’re my boy, and right now you’re my very  _ naughty _ boy. I need to teach you how important it is to  _ listen _ when we are at work, and to pay attention. Your attention should be on me, because it’s my job to take care of you. I keep you in hand, and I guide you. I am your Dominant, and I will reward, but right now it is also my duty to punish.”  
  
  


_ Smack. Smack. Smack.  
  
  
_

The next moments were filled with the sensation of her hand against his bottom, and his own sobbing counts. The bounce of his skin, the burning feeling in his derrière. When Nanny – Crowley – Nanny – had become his Dom, the promise the demon made had been to take him in hand and under wing and it was a promise that had been kept many times over.  
  
  


_ Smack. Smack. Smack.  
  
  
_

It was impossible to focus or remember what had upset him so much earlier. The only sensation that mattered was the heat in his arse. Her hand holding his blindfold - and by extension him - in place. The only sound that mattered was the sound of her hand firmly hitting his skin, and the rippling that added to the sensation. Aziraphale didn’t have to see his bottom to know how red it was getting.  
  
  


_ Nine. Ten. Eleven.  
  
  
_

Counting – that was his job – and feeling. Feeling the sensation of her hand, that yielded nothing, that made every smack with the same intensity as the one before. It was firm, but also steadying.   
  
  


_ Smack. Smack. Smack.  
  
  
  
_

He was crying. On some level he knew he was. It hurt – it was meant to hurt. He hated it. But it was exactly what he needed. That heat was both torture and salvation. This was something only she could do. It was everything. He loved it.  
  
  


_ Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.  
  
  
_

Nanny was saying something. Somewhere, over his head, behind him, he could hear the moment the reprimands turned to praise. That he was doing the right thing. That he was doing such a good job counting for her. He was her boy, her good angel, all for her.  
  
  
  


_ Smack. Smack. Smack.  
  
  
  
_

Aziraphale didn’t remember that twenty was the number they agreed to. All he could focus on was the counting, but that had stopped. The tears were still running down his face, and he could hear her cooing, but none of her words were registering. Her hand had gone from striking his rear to giving it soothing rubs, that seemed to stave the worst of the burning. It didn’t completely go away, because they both knew he didn’t want it to. The ache would still be there, with a slight twinge, because they both knew that was the best part. The hand that had kept his head in a firm hold relaxed as well, and her fingers went from holding the blindfold firmly to running through his curls. Her nails curled in, so she could lightly scratch his head in a way that made him shiver.  
  
  
  


“My good angel,” She praised, “There we are, such a good boy for me. You did a very good job, holding still and counting.”  


  
There was no reply he could give her. Aziraphale was trembling under her hands, but he was also distantly floating somewhere else – only grounded by where she had him in her hold. He was still sniffling, but he knew she liked it when he cried, so that was alright.

  
  
“I think I have your attention now,” She mused, trailing her hand up from his posterior, to lightly stroke his back, and then join her other hand in his hair.

“Eyes closed darling,” Nanny commanded, and Aziraphale obeyed as the blindfold came off. She then placed her hands on his shoulders, and he rose, so he was now on his knees.

“Hands behind your back, clasp your forearms,” She ordered, and Aziraphale did as she bade. Nanny moved behind him, and the blindfold was now keeping his arms bound behind his back. The sensation of being bound made his back arch instinctively, and he inhaled through his nose. Clearly, the scene was not over, and he could not wait for what else she had in store.

Her hands turned him around, and he was commanded to open his eyes. When he did, he saw, at the foot of the bed, a stool, where they had been standing. But there was something on the stool. It was a saddle. There was something phallic on top of it, with a smaller implement in front of it. Nanny wrapped her arms around his chest and belly from behind. Her chin rested on his shoulder. When she drew breath, it tickled his ear.

“Do you know what that is, love?” 

“I-“ Aziraphale’s voice broke off into a whimper as her hand reached up to rub his nipple. He squirmed, but all that did was encourage her other hand to tease his other nipple. She  _ knew  _ that he couldn’t concentrate when his nipples were played with, and his clitoris throbbed at the stimulation, also wanting attention. Aziraphale squealed at the onslaught. After a few minutes, Nanny slowed her hands, making a mock shushing noise at the angel’s whine.

“Hush lovey,” She cooed, moving one of her hands to gently rub his belly, and then further south to ghost over his labia. It made him squirm, but her arm around his chest only tightened to keep him still.

“Well?” Nanny said.

Aziraphale gave another whimper.

_"Well,”_ Nanny repeated, but Aziraphale could hear her smile in his ear, “Do you know what that is?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Aziraphale shook his head.

“It’s called a sybian,” Nanny explained. “My little angel has been a very worried darling, and you did such a good job with your punishment, that I think you deserve a little ride as a reward.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure what a _ride_ meant, but he knew how generous his dominant was with rewards, and decided to trust his demon. So when her hands half-guided, half-carried him forward, he went with no resistance. She had him turn, so he could face the bed, and helped lower him so he could be seated on the saddle. The phallic object was a dildo, and he was so wet from the spanking and teasing that it slid right into him with no issue. Aziraphale had to look up to see her, the saddle was lower than the bed, so he was now staring at her abdomen. But then she started to adjust the piece that went against his clitoris, and he was distracted once more as her fingers groped him as she positioned him just so. There were some straps for his thighs that she used to secure him to the harness, which made him slightly uneasy. Wasn’t a saddle meant to be ridden?

As if she could understand his words, Nanny cupped Aziraphale’s chin in her hand, and tilted his face to look up at her.

“What is my angel thinking about?” She commanded.

Aziraphale swallowed. “I-I don’t know what to do, Nanny,” He stammered. His voice was rough from crying, and it warbled now as he tried to put his thoughts together. She hushed him, leaning down to kiss his forehead in that way he liked.

“All you have to do,” Nanny said, “Is let go, and enjoy yourself.”

That was the only warning he got before he heard a ‘click’ and the dildo inside him began to vibrate. Aziraphale jumped in shock, but the straps around his thighs held him in place, along with Nanny’s arms. He cried out, and those cries increased in pitch as the bullet vibrator against his clit came to life.

“Oh!” Moaning could not do this justice. Aziraphale cried out, trembling in his Nanny’s arms. Everything was so  _ sensitive _ , and he had already been so worked up. His bottom had been warm, and was now sore. But the vibrations against his sensitive skin heightened everything for him. It took him only minutes to come. His orgasm had him shuddering, and he tried to jerk his hips away from the vibrators, now feeling much too sensitive to continue. But Nanny’s hands kept him in place, and she was unrelenting.

Afterall, this was his reward.

Aziraphale whimpered, “Please – oh – oh  _ -oh please- _ “ But he didn’t know if he needed it to stop or needed more – and really – he always wanted more. His hips shook and instinctively grounded against the vibrators as another orgasm overcame him. This was what he wanted – more, more more. He was a hedonist – he belonged to Nanny, he was Nanny’s good boy, and he loved pleasure and he loved his. It was exactly what he wanted, and the stimulation was too much and perfect. 

Nanny leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss, one that she deepened as he came once more, whimpering into her mouth. Her fingers trailed down, teasing at his nipples and caressing the soft skin around his chest, belly, and back. All that softness, all hers and only hers. Aziraphale’s body was her own paradise.

“My angel,” She half-growled, “I want something from you.”

Aziraphale, in the throes of another orgasm, was trying to bury his head into her chest. “Any-anything-“ He panted, “Please – Nanny-“

Gently, her fingers pushed his head back. With no small amount of pride, she watched his glazed over eyes try and focus for her. What a good boy she had. Nanny pushed her thumb into his mouth, and he began to suck.

“I want you to use your very good mouth,” She said, speaking slowly and clearly, “To get your mistress off. Understood?”

Aziraphale whimpered out a yes, but whether it was to her or his latest orgasm, it wasn’t clear. Nanny gave a small snort, and pulled her panties down. Her own erection was throbbing, desperate for her angel to get her off. At the sight of it, she saw Aziraphale’s mouth water. She rose up to her knees, and it was easy to guide Aziraphale’s mouth to her cock – her darling had quite the oral fixation.

“Oh, my smart angel,” She praised, delighting as his warm tongue swirled about her head before swallowing her down. “You’re very good at this.”

Her hand slid into his curls, gently pulling on them as she worked a steady pace. The vibrations of the sybian did a wonderful job of moving his hips back and forth. When his hips jerked back, she could see the instant his reddened bottom fully touched the saddle, and he would squeal in overstimulation. There was very little she really needed to do to get the thrusting sensation she needed. But she kept her hand in his hair, because Aziraphale craved contact, and loved being demon-handled by her. So she kept both hands in his hair, all the while praising him as she thrust in and out. She could tell by the high pitched moans when he came, and assumed that her love was floating right now on an overstimulated high. Aziraphale was a being of nothing but sensation at the moment, but she kept her praise flowing, because her angel deserved it.

When she came, Aziraphale swallowed her essence, and Nanny pulled back. He whined, trying to follow her, but she shushed him and wiped at his mouth and chin with her thumb. With a snap, the vibrators lowered their intensity, gradually slowing to a halt. She knew that he was done, because as they stopped there was no whimpered protest that she sometimes got when she stopped his toys in the past. Her poor darling was well and truly spent.

“There you are,” She cooed, watching him sway under her hands, perfectly pliant. With a surprising amount of strength, Nanny lifted him back onto the bed. She waved her hand, and the sybian vanished where she knew it would appear in her flat, perfectly clean, waiting once again for its angel rider.

Nanny guided Aziraphale to lay back on the pillows, where he belonged, and a cloth appeared in her hand so she could make sure everything was as it should be. As she traced the cloth over his sensitive pussy, he gave a light, exhausted giggle, and his clitoris gave a valiant pulse. She chuckled.

“Does your greedy little cunt want to come some more?”

Just to tease, she gently moved over it once again, just to watch him squirm in delight.

“How tired are you, my angel?” She asked. Aziraphale gave her a satiated smile, and it warmed Nanny to see her boy looking perfectly relaxed. A job well done for her, indeed.

“Tired, but still awake Nanny,” Aziraphale answered.

Nanny gave his thigh a loving squeeze and moved between his legs. “Well, then I think I’ve earned myself a treat.”

Aziraphale’s giggles broke into a moan as her lips and tongue met his clitoris and pussy, and her thumbs parted his lower lips for easier access. It would be a while before she had her fill, but neither demon nor angel were in any rush to end their night. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am Shay_Moonsilk on Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, and Discord!


End file.
